


Somebody Fine Will Come Along

by ursa_maritima



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Fake Marriage, Inspired By Tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 17:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21498199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ursa_maritima/pseuds/ursa_maritima
Summary: What better setup for a modern fake-married Perc'ahlia than this amazing tumblr post, which contains wedding hijinks at sea, friendship and love from afar, and exasperated friends and family?  https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/lesbianshepard/153182037318
Relationships: Cassandra de Rolo & Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III & Keyleth, Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III/Vex'ahlia, Vax'ildan & Vex'ahlia (Critical Role)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19
Collections: Perc'ahlia Month Gift Exchange 2019





	1. T minus four hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blackglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackglass/gifts).

Vex reached out into the gently-rocking darkness above her and wished briefly for the ability to phase-shift in order to actually strangle her happily-snoring brother, instead of just making futile gestures at the painted wood. Vax only snored after he'd been asleep for a couple hours, and then only for about twenty minutes at a time, but every time - okay, it only happened once every week, roughly, given the way the watch rotations worked out, but still -  _ every time _ she had to be up before dawn for her turn as Assistant Steward, he woke her up about an hour too early. The only consolation was that no matter what else he’d sleep through, he could never sleep through her leaving, a fact soon demonstrated as she eased her way out of her bunk and heard the snoring stutter into a long yawn.

“Back to kitchen wench time, Stumpy?” came the half-asleep thread of sound.

“Yes. Go back to your snoring, Scrawny,” she hissed back.

“How did I let you talk me into this?” Vax asked in a barely-audible groan as he rolled back over, one arm shoved awkwardly behind him.

“ _ I  _ didn’t talk you into anything,” Vex retorted just as quietly. “ _ Velora  _ batted her eyes at you and  _ you  _ caved like a bad sandcastle.” She latched the small cubby that held her clothes and personal effects and tugged at his elbow. “Cheer up. Two more rotations and you’ll be off the night shift and onto your King’s Sleep and half-day off.” His only response was another grumble and batting ineffectively at the curtain that slid to enclose the bunk for privacy. She pulled it shut for him before turning to dart up the narrow stairs to the galley. As she ducked her head and stepped over the threshold, she caught a bit of movement off to her right.

“What are we making today, All- oh, hey, Kima! I thought it was Allura’s turn on morning shift.” Kima turned with a grin, sharp and a tiny bit threatening as she hoisted one of the biggest pans onto the range, locking it down with deft fingers. 

“It is. You came on mid-tour; you haven’t experienced a cold lunch and not-banquet-banquet night,” she said as she pivoted the freshwater spigot over the pan. 

“Not-banquet banquet?” A touch at her back sent her edging off to one side as Allura scooted past her into the galley, her arms full of flats of vegetables and fruit. Allura set them down on the recessed shelf, flipped up the lip to keep the stack stable, and turned to face Vex. 

“Vex’ahlia, ordinarily I’d want to have a day like this scheduled for when I had a more seasoned crewmember as assistant steward, but you seem to have an admirable tendency towards surprising hypercompetence, so I think we’ll be able to handle it. So.” Allura flicked her braid back over her shoulder and accepted the wide-bottomed mug of tea from Kima before continuing. “Today is Galley Day, an-”

“Hell Day,” Kima supplied helpfully, holding a second mug - this time full of the highly coveted mocha made from a stovetop moka pot that was one of the perks of serving as assistant steward - out towards Vex.

“ _ Galley _ Day,” Allura repeated, shooting Kima a reproachful look. “Those beasts,” she pointed at the twin sets of ovens that took up the majority of one wall of the narrow galley, “need to be cleaned. Can’t clean a hot oven, and can’t not feed the crew and the pass-”

“Ballast,” Kima interrupted.

“ _ Passengers _ ,” Allura stressed, reaching behind her to blindly shove at Kima’s shoulder. “So lunch has to be the only things cooked between now and about two hours from now, so that the ranges and ovens have time to cool. There’s an extra dish bitch on after that, so we can get some of the larger items cleaned out faster before we have to use them again to finish up the rest of the banquet. It’s not a banquet in the sense that most of the banquets we cook are the same menu; main course’s being grilled out on deck and most of the sides are either cold or can stand reheating on the grill or hot plates easy enough. Kima’s got the veggies and plating for the day- and you, my dear, having given us such a wonderful suggestion on your first day, get to make the egg salad.” Vex relaxed very slightly. She could cook- they’d asked, their first day on board, if anyone had experience cooking for large groups and she’d fibbed only slightly in raising her hand. She was used to cooking for large groups, just...furry, four-footed ones. But egg salad was something she’d made all the time when she and Vax had struck out on their own; that, she could handle. 

“Got it. This is my workstation, then?” she asked, indicating the medium-sized saucepan locked into position on the range behind her. Kima grinned that mostly-feral grin again.

“Nope. That’s mine. This-” she waved dramatically at the giant pan she’d heaved onto the other range earlier, “is your station.” Vex raised her eyebrows at that. That pan was half as big as Kima. Granted, Kima was pretty short, but that still made it the biggest pan she’d ever seen. Allura took her by the shoulders and swivelled her around to face the stack- the very large stack- of full flats of eggs braced in the corner. 

“Those need to be hard boiled, then shelled, then turned into egg salad,” Allura said with a gentle pat on her shoulders.

“...How...how many of them?” Vex felt her earlier assurance start to trickle away.

“All of them.” Vex blanched as Kima began to cackle. 

“Sixty passengers, thirty permanent crew, thirty temporary crew/students; gotta have enough egg salad for all those lunches, and since it’s a bitch and a half to make, it’s a rare treat. It goes  _ fast. _ Set to, kiddo- we're off to daily meeting, we'll check in on you after." They left Vex staring in increasing consternation at the stack of flats that awaited her, wishing that her eyesight wasn't as excellent as it was. Nearly six flats! The boiling wasn't going to be a problem, not with that pot, but the peeling? The whine that escaped her rivaled anything her dear Trinket had ever produced. 

"Right," she said finally, pulling herself together as she drained the last of the treasured mocha. "I can do this."

**

Much later, Kima poked her head around the doorway, calling back in Allura's direction.

"No smoke and no sobbing, so I think we're good, Allie!" Vex raised her head from where she'd been resting it on her crossed forearms and met Kima's gaze tiredly. Kima frowned slightly as Vex pulled dripping hands out of the chilled bowls she'd been soaking them in and dried them on the towel still clinging to her shoulder. "Eh, what's this? Let me see those," Kima said, coming fully into the galley and tugging one of Vex's hands toward her. 

"They're not burned," Vex protested. "Just achy." Kima turned first the one hand, then the other up to the bright galley light, gazing intently at the angry pink flush to the fingertips and palms. Vex tried again to reclaim her hands. "I just had them soaking because I know we've still got a bunch of lunch prep, and I…” she trailed off as Allura made her way into the galley, peering over Kima’s shoulder. 

“Well, you’ve certainly earned the upside to Galley Day,” Allura said with a gentle smile. “Since it’s a cold lunch, we’ll have a nice long break while the oven’s being cleaned.”

“Which means go put on something nice, head up and pretend to be one of those rich-ass bastards that wouldn’t tip a red cent if it weren’t built into their fare costs,” Kima released her hands and settled back on her heels. “Zahra, the bartender at the library bar? She’ll get you hooked up with the good shit.”

“I thought we weren’t allowed alcohol on board, much less on shift.” Kima waggled her hand dismissively as Allura shrugged one shoulder. 

“One drink on Galley Day as Assistant Steward is fine. Usually we share it at the end of the day, but I think you’ve more than earned it with that egg salad. Rumor’s already ripped through the crew and the student crew who’ve been here long enough to know how rare a treat that is- next port day without any ballast on board and you’ll have all the free drinks you care to accept, I’d imagine.”

“And Z’s great at mixing something up that looks alcoholic enough to kill a man and raise him from the dead but doesn’t actually contain any alcohol,” Kima continued, coming around to prod Vex between the shoulderblades. “C’mon, up. Oh, and if Kash is on duty, stick to something else. Give that man free rein and he’ll mix something that’ll have you fucked up for days.” 

“Cash?” 

“Kashaw. The one your brother’s always flirting with and the one who’ll be first suspect in your brother’s eventual murder.”

“Oh, the one he calls hot-ass Prince MurderCaspian!” Vex said unthinkingly, then clapped a hand over her mouth at Kima’s delighted expression. 

“Nobody is allowed to call him that to his face until I am in position to watch from a safe distance. MurderCaspian. Amazing!” Kima shoved her towards the door, calling after her “-And don’t come back until the bell!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is finished! I fixed all my formatting in the ao3 draft and then time went all batshit on me and before I knew it it had auto-deleted. Should be mostly fixed now! I'll be changing the thing to completed once I'm certain nothing's showing up wonky.


	2. T minus an hour, give or take

“I worry, Percival; this is a rough time of year for you, and so soon after-” Percival looks away from the menu and waits to see if Yennen will actually talk about the 'after'; namely, the intellectual property lawsuit and industrial sabotage investigation that had stretched for five long years before finally, _ finally _ ending with Whitestone Foundry back in de Rolo hands and the Briarwoods behind bars. Yennen just sits next to him, twisting his hands. No, then. Okay. Percival’s used to carrying the weight of conversation by this point. 

“That’s precisely why I’m taking the year on sabbatical, Yennen. I’ve spent too long wrapped up in legal terror and nonsense. I just want to be able to _ create _ again without worrying about patents and properties. Cassandra’s got a good handle on the Foundry, and the internet does exist, even in Canberra, should she need me."

“But this should be a vacation, a celebration for you, Percival! Not work!”

“This _ is _ my vacation. Taking a leisurely cruise across the Mediterranean for 12 days before boarding a flight from Athens when I could have flown and been there in a day and a half?” Percival raises his eyebrows at Yennen expectantly, who remains unmoved by simple logic. Yennen leans forward, resting one elbow gingerly on the bar- unnecessarily given the spotless nature of the polished wood, but that’s Yennen in a nutshell.

“Percival. Please just- just consider how it might look, given everything else that has happened recently, if you were to be seen exhibiting any kind of behavior that might be construed against you. This is not the time for brash or irrational behavior. This is the time to keep our heads down and be steady.”

“What’s left that falls under ‘brash and irrational’ that I haven’t already done, then? That’s a serious question, really. I’d like to know.” Yennen flounders for a long moment under Percival’s steady gaze before sitting back on the barstool with a huff. 

“Get married?” Percival drops his head to the bar. Of all the- it’s _ 2019\. _Yennen soldiers on. “You are now controller of a large fortune and multinational company with solid financial prospects, it wouldn’t be unheard of for gold-diggers to be on the lookout for you, to work their way into your good grace-” Yennen falls silent as Percival’s hand comes up, followed shortly by his head once he’d gained control over his expression. 

“Mother had the importance of a prenuptial agreement drilled into all of our heads by the time we hit junior high school, Yennen. If -_ if _\- I get married, it will be with all due diligence done, you may rest assured.” Percival lowers his hand, then thinks better of it and uses it to flag down the bartender. “Besides, though the Foundry may indeed be a multinational company and finally returned to people who will guide its finances in a more stable direction, the vast majority of the public don’t know it exists- and half those that do think it’s some kind of sex toy and fetish organization.” To the newly-arrived bartender, whose mask of professionalism hadn’t flinched, he continues “I’m apparently supposed to be on more of a vacation than i already am; could you make your worst vacation concoction for me?” He spins his room key around so the bartender can see the number before turning back to Yennen. “Coverage has already fallen out of main papers and onto the back pages of industry papers and journals. There may be a bit more press in a few months when the patent release happens, but that will be centered around the Foundry, not our personal lives. It is vanishingly unlikely that anyone will even know that I am someone that might be worth recognizing, and the idea that I will meet someone in the next few days, fall madly in love, and elope with them is even more ridiculous than ...whatever this is,” Percival finished, indicating the multicolored layers of foam and froth and strangely-shaped fruit that had appeared next to his elbow. “Honestly, Yennen, if you’re that concerned about my stress levels, this conversation has been the most stressful thing that’s happened in weeks. I just want to enjoy the novelty of being on a beautiful sail-powered ship, scribble things in my workbook and have a drink.” Yennen rose from his chair reluctantly, resting one hand on Percival’s shoulder. 

“I don’t mean to upset you, Percival. I suppose I still feel rather responsible for you and Miss Cassandra-”

“Oh, don’t let her catch you still calling her Miss,” Percival said with a quick grin. “I understand. But this should be a vacation for you as well, Yennen. Take a break. Enjoy the sea air, the sunshine! It’ll be quite cold once you fly home.” He raised his glass as Yennen took his leave.

“I wouldn’t drink that.” The bartender’s voice was curt, almost gravelly, but seemed amused rather than annoyed. Percival glanced at the glass in his hand. The contents had begun to melt together, and instead of even layers of varying unnatural colors laid down like a parfait in the glass they had merged into an unsettling smear somewhat reminiscent of an oilslick. He turned his gaze to the bartender. “It’s edible, but the deckhand it’s named for is really the only one who’s ever actually enjoyed it. Kash.” 

“I’d have expected a greener drink for someone named Cash. Or black, I suppose, if they’re a Johnny Cash fan.”

“No, I’m Kash. Kashaw. Whatever. The drink’s called The Little Sapphire. I figured you needed something terrifying to scare your friend away. If you want something that’s not going to send you into a hyperosmotic hyperglycemic state?” He thrust a hand out and away in a gesture that encompassed the entirety of the shelves behind him. Too many options. Percival shook his head, gingerly sliding the tall glass away from his notebook before stretching his hand out across the bar. 

“Percival,” he said as Kash shook his hand firmly. “I leave myself in your capable hands, Kash.”


End file.
